Page 3 of Inked Heart

“One question. Who is the godfather?”

“El.” She says winking and walking away. Of course, he is. After about forty-five minutes of amazing Ezra/Auntie Kitty bonding time El makes his way over to me.

“Want to trade, Angel?” Because I am excited to hold Abby, I answer him. Even though he’s been staring at me the whole time I’ve been here.

“Sounds good, god poppa.”

“Sure does, god mama.” He winks at me and instantly that does it.

“Want to get a drink, when this is over?” I boldly ask him.

“Sure, where?”

“Anywhere is good with me.”

“My place is about eight minutes from here. I have some drinks there.”

“That sounds amazing.” I gush, feeling the heat rising on my cheeks again. Who the fuck is this imposter? I have never done anything like this, but I cannot take the feelings he inspires deep in me when I look at him. It feels as if it is more than his good looks, and it scares me.

But fuck it.

When it is time to leave, I follow him back to his place because I drove my 1981 Beetle. It was my mom’s, I love it and it still runs like a dream. As he slows and turns on his blinker, I feel the butterflies start to take flight in my stomach. I cannot believe I am doing this.

Getting out and locking my doors as I reach his doorstep and wait for him to unlock the door. No sooner than we are inside, he turns and pushes me against the door. I moan as his lips make, contact with my neck. He lifts me, by grabbing my ass and I wrap my legs around his waist automatically. My dress climbs up my thighs, where his hands find their way under the skirt to my ass. I groan, remembering the panties I put on this morning. They are practical. Black cotton and not sexy at all.

“What’s wrong, Angel?” He sets my legs down, planting my feet firmly on the ground.

“I don’t own any sexy panties. I am sorry.” Why the fuck am I apologizing?

“Angel, I am going to be honest with you. I don’t give a fuck about your panties. Some guys may want you wrapped up in a pretty package, but your sweet cunt is all I need.” His words make me fucking crazy.

I reach up on my tip toes and kiss him. He growls, pulls me closer to him, and backs us until we reach his bedroom. I had just barely kicked my shoes off in the hallway before he grabbed me. He leans back from me, reaches down to the hem of my skirt on my dress, and starts lifting it up my legs to my waist. His hands skim along every inch of my body.

Goosebumps are rising all over my body when he finally lifts it over my head, leaving me standing before him in only my bra and panties. Quickly unhooking my bra and tossing it on top of my dress on the floor, with my panties following soon after.

I reach for the buttons on his shirt and start undoing them as I skim my hands over his pecs, before sliding it down his arms and adding his own pile on the floor. Fumbling with his belt buckle with slightly shaky hand, has him automatically taking over for me. When his slacks finally open, his enormous cock springs out causing me to take a little step back as I gasp. His hands reach for me, digging into my hips as he moves to draw me back closer to him.

“Angel. I am going to take good care of you. There is no need for you to worry about it.” Deciding to trust him with my body, I allow him to lay me down on his massive bed.

I am already wet when he slides a finger into me, but not too far before he moves it further inside me and I cry out. Deciding I am ready enough; he moves over me, while gripping his cock and jerks on it before positioning it at my opening. Looking down into my eyes, he slams into me and I scream out. The pain is instant, but fleeting. Thankfully.

He looks down at me and whispers “Virgin?” I can only nod, but when it seems like he going to pull out of me, I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him closer to me. I pull his head down to me and kiss him.

“El, please move. Please.” I plead with him. He shakes his head, as if to clear it and slowly starts to fuck me with in and out strokes of his cock. When his dick starts to hit the correct place inside of me, he reaches his hand down to my clit and smacks it. I scream out his name, while he continues to pound into me. My mind is a jumble and my breath, comes in heavy pants. He is like a machine, giving me everything I need. The sudden pressure that builds from deep in my core is surprising. My release floods out and he stops for a minute.

“You like that, Kitty? You like how I am claiming you?”

“Oh God. El. Please. More.” I beg him, but I am not sure I know what I am getting myself into.

His huge hands grip my hips and my ass at the same time. I know the bruises will be well worth it.

He grunts my name as he fills me, which sets me off again.

“You like me filling you with my seed? Giving you all of me? This little pussy is milking my cock.”

“Oh. My. God. El. You are too fucking much.” I say kissing him again.

He pulls out of me and I hate that. Like more than I thought I would. Is it crazy that I miss him already? Probably, so I shove that thought to the back of my mind. I can’t have this, whatever this is, in my life. He moves his weight off me and gets up and heads to the bathroom. I hear water running and then a few minutes later he returns to the bed with a washcloth and cleans me, before returning to lay beside me in the bed.

Surprisingly, when he takes me several more times in the night, I don’t feel any discomfort. That is not to say, by the time we are finished I am quite sore.

At dawn, I reach over and kiss his lips lightly and then trace the tattoos he has covering his arms and shoulders. The graveyard scene he has over his arms is epic. The dead trees high above the tombstones are creepy and realistic. It is a huge piece that must’ve taken at least thirty hours to do and done in all black ink.

The crisp, tight, thin lines are a surefire sign that the artist knew what they were doing. He is the perfect canvas. My fingers itch to mark him. But that kind of thinking won’t help anyone, so I commit his tattoos to memory. I know they snake around to his back, but since he’s on it, I’ll never get a chance to see them. Even his thighs are inked. They are just done in what appears to be tree roots, from the trees up on his biceps. Like I said, epic.

Sneaking from his bed and grabbing my clothes to dress quickly, I turn back for a look at him in the early light. With a final look, I turn and leave his house.

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